Sentimental Fool
by Pipergirl17
Summary: Sequel to A Little Christmas Spirit. Darcy's plans for a Valentine's dinner with Loki, Jane and Thor don't go quite as planned. Meanwhile, Loki must come to terms with his growing feelings for the young woman. And, of course, what would a Valentine's fic be without romance?


A/N: Hello again! I'll be honest-I started writing this fic last year but my muse gave up on me, the flighty tart. This time around, however, I managed to hold her down until the fic was done. Although it's been over a year since A Little Christmas Spirit was posted, this fic takes place only 7 weeks later.

This is rated R for a reason-coarse language and adult situations. If that's not your cuppa, you might want to skip this. If you're all for it-please go ahead and enjoy :)

Disclaimers: Located at the end of the story to prevent spoilers.

* * *

She was so mad she didn't know whether to cry or stamp her feet.

Darcy leaned back against the elevator wall and crossed her arms over her chest, taking in a deep calming breath. _Asshole_, she thought. Three weeks. _Three weeks_, she'd spent planning this evening, choosing the restaurant, making reservations, buying a new dress and shoes (and lingerie, not that it would be of any use now).

And despite this, despite knowing how much it all meant to her, Loki decided at the last _fucking_ minute to be antisocial and not join her, Jane and Thor for a Valentine's Day dinner.

No amount of reasoning, pleading or threatening had changed his mind any. The more she'd pushed, the more he'd pushed back, until she'd pushed him to the point where he'd closed off completely, no longer speaking to her.

Which left her on her own, in an elevator, climbing to the 87th floor on her way to becoming a bitter third wheel in what was intended to be a double date.

The doors opened and Darcy pushed away from the wall, angrily wiping away a stray tear. She'd be damned if the tears won over stamping her feet.

Jane and Thor's apartment (if that's what you could call 2,100 square feet of living space in Stark Tower) was around the first corner. Darcy threw back her shoulders, straightened her posture and knocked with as much dignity as she could muster.

Thor opened the door wearing a well-tailored suit and a beaming smile. "Darcy! Come in, please," he boomed. His brow creased when he saw her enter alone and he peered out into the hallway, looking both ways, before closing the door.

"Where is Loki?" he asked, curious.

"Don't. Just… don't," Darcy replied, placing her hand out in front of her, palm out.

"Is he not coming?" he continued, oblivious to her not-so-subtle hint to drop the subject.

"No." With anyone else but Thor, Darcy would have just left it at that, but he was giving her his big Asgardian puppy dog eyes. Sighing, she explained, ticking each statement off a newly manicured (again, for naught) finger. "First, he was tired. Then he had a headache-and no, I'm not joking, he really used that excuse. Then he didn't want to run the chance of being recognised. And _then_, finally, he didn't have to explain himself to me because His Worshipness is a god and I am a lowly human."

Thor pressed his lips together, clearly unimpressed with his brother. However, instead of stomping past her to physically extract Loki from his apartment, he simply asked Darcy for five minutes and disappeared into another room.

"What was that about?" Jane asked as she walked into the room.

"I don't know," Darcy admitted, wincing as the door the Asgardian slammed shook in its frame. "But I've a feeling that Loki's about to get an earful." She draped her coat over the back of a recliner and sighed.

Her friend reached out and placed a hand on her arm. "He isn't coming, is he?"

"Nope." She wasn't going to cry. _Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in…_

"But everything was still fine yesterday when we spoke, wasn't it?" Jane looked as confused as Darcy had been earlier in the evening when Loki had backed out.

"Yup." Still focusing on breathing in and out, Darcy wouldn't allow herself to say more than that.

"And he just cancelled at the last minute?"

"Uh-huh."

Eyes narrowed, Jane watched the closed door. "Then he deserves whatever it is he's getting. Although," she added, "it's really kind of quiet for one of their typical Thor-Loki fights. I don't hear anything at all."

"Yeah," Darcy agreed, curiosity distracting her from a crying jag. "The last time they had it out, they nearly destroyed the whole 52nd floor. Stark just about had kittens."

Both women fell silent, straining to hear any sounds coming from the room in which Thor had entered. The only sound that could be heard was the humming of the dishwasher as it ran through one of its cycles.

They both jumped when there was a loud knock at the door just behind them.

"Holy shit!" Darcy exclaimed, holding her hand over her heart.

Jane walked the few steps to the door and answered it. A very familiar voice spoke up.

"I do apologise for my tardiness," Loki said, entering the room dressed in an outrageously expensive suit (or so it seemed to Darcy, who'd seen her fair share of expensive suits bumping elbows with Tony Stark). "I hope our plans haven't been cancelled."

* * *

(Moments earlier)

Loki read the text message on his phone and swore under his breath. _Damn him_, he cursed. Damn his brother for knowing _exactly_ what to say to get him to change his mind about Darcy's absurd plans.

_Please, brother, don't disappoint yet another woman who loves you_.

"Fuck," he growled, fighting the urge to throw his phone against the wall. Instead he sighed and sat down, letting himself fall onto the edge of his bed. He was smart enough to realise that his anger was rooted in the fact that Thor was right. For whatever reason, Darcy Lewis cared for him. Like Thor and his mother, she saw something in him that no one else could see.

And he was still dealing with the guilt of the last words shared with his mother…

"_And am I not your mother?"_

"_You're not…"_

Of all the lies he'd ever uttered, that had been the greatest. He could only hope that Frigga had seen it for the weak argument it had been: a pathetic, childish, attempt to convince himself that he had been wronged by everyone in his life. _Selfish bastard,_ he thought ruefully.

Although it was impossible to change the past-that was beyond even _his_ abilities-it wasn't too late to salvage what had developed between him and Darcy. With a shimmer he changed into more appropriate clothing for a night out and teleported himself outside Thor and Jane's door.

He knocked, waiting a beat until the door opened. Jane's eyebrows rose and she remained mute in her surprise.

Loki inclined his head in greeting, forcing a smile. "I do apologise for my tardiness," he said, walking past his brother's beloved and entering the room. He spotted Darcy by the kitchen; she was stunning in a strapless deep red dress which did everything to show off her curves. "I hope our plans have not been cancelled."

"No," Jane said, closing the door behind them. "They're still on."

She looked at Darcy, unspoken words passing between them as only women can do-_therein lies *their* magic_, Loki thought. She grabbed Thor on her way by-he'd just walked out of their bedroom-and dragged him back into the room. "Come on, I need to finish getting ready."

Thor, as always, was obtuse. "What? Do you need my assistance?" Jane simply smiled patiently and shut the door behind them.

Loki had to give Darcy credit-the young woman stood her ground and met his gaze. In her eyes he could see a mix of anger, defiance and pain. Pain which he'd caused.

Thor was right; he'd already had his mother's grief hanging over his head and that was weight enough to bear.

"I'm sorry, Darcy."

The simple apology must have sounded as hollow to her ears as they did to his, because she raised one well-manicured eyebrow and pressed her lips together into a thin line.

"_This_ is why they call you Silvertongue?!" She asked, unimpressed.

Loki exhaled deeply and leaned back against the counter, staring at the fringe on his scarf. He realised it was the same one he'd conjured when he was in Germany-back _then_-and immediately changed its appearance to something more appropriate.

It had been a long time since he'd had a heart to heart, but he was willing to give it a try. For Darcy, yes, but also for himself. His mother would have said it was part of the healing process; it was with bitterness that he realised he was finally heeding her wisdom now that she was no longer among the living.

"I was selfish," he admitted. "It's not in my nature to consider the feelings of others before my own." He lifted his gaze to hers, noticing the anger slowly fading from her features as she listened to his words. He offered her a crooked smirk. "However, that doesn't mean I can't make an effort to change my ways."

The young woman looked at him evenly, eyes guarded. "What did he say?" She asked.

Loki frowned, not following her line of thought. "What did _who_ say?"

"Thor. What did _he_ tell you that _I_ didn't to convince you to come?" There was a desperate edge to her voice that warned him this was not a time for deceit.

"He warned me not to push away yet another woman who cares for me." He replied, deliberately changing one important word from Thor's text. _Love_ was a word that held too much power for him to speak of it as casually as his brother did; he would need to show his affection for Darcy in other ways, then. One step took him to her side and he reached out to her, his long fingers tentatively skating along her bare shoulder. "I've already made that mistake once, Darcy, and I'll regret it until the end of my days."

Darcy melted into him, her head resting against his chest over his heart. He held her within the circle of his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

He cursed Thor for exploiting his Achilles heel. His relationship with Darcy had been, so far, superficial (mostly sexual, really), which suited him just fine; a casual fling was easy, safe. He sensed, however, that this evening would take them in a new direction-uncharted territory for Loki, who'd vowed to never allow himself to be close to anyone ever again.

On the other hand, a small part of him-most likely the part of his heart that Darcy had thawed-was grateful to his brother for provoking such change.

Not that he'd ever admit it. Ever.

"I won't continue doing this, though," Darcy said, pulling back and looking up at him seriously. "This whole emotional rollercoaster deal. You're going to be honest with me or that's it, cause the whole 'friends with benefits' thing won't work anymore. I can't be with you without being emotionally involved."

Honesty. She may as well have demanded all the riches in the Nine Realms.

Loki stared at Darcy, warring with himself. Would he be lying to her by accepting her terms? Hell, would he be lying to himself by refusing them?

"I will endeavour to be honest with you, with the best of intentions," he finally conceded. It was the best he could offer.

Darcy must have realised this because her full lips, painted ruby red, stretched into a smile. Her eyes moved down to his scarf, which she lifted and wrapped around her hand. "I like this one way better," she spoke of the deep red fabric.

His eyes strayed to the bust line of her dress, the vivid splash of red contrasting with her pale skin, the pendant he'd given her at Christmas displayed as it always was, whether she was dressed formally or wearing one of her signature bulky sweaters. His fingers itched to trace along the swell of her breasts, his lips following their path. Instead, he kept his hands down on her hips.

"You remind me of the Maiden apples we have on Asgard," he said, "with their bright red skins and their pale flesh." Leaning in, he brushed his lips against the shell of her ear. "They are the most _sinfully_ delicious fruit."

He felt her shiver before pulling away from him. "Why are they called Maiden's apples?" She asked, still playing with his scarf.

"Eons ago, there was a beautiful young maiden named Yrsa. Yrsa fell in love with one of the king's knights, Einarr. Every day of their courtship, Einarr would bring Yrsa an apple from his family's orchard. At that time, apples were rare, and this was a grand gesture on his part. It showed that he had wealth, but also that he loved her deeply. On the eve of their wedding day, Einarr was sent to battle, where he died. Never having known loss or sadness, Yrsa cried for days and days, and weeks and weeks, mourning him, until her tears formed a river. Unconsolable, she threw herself in the water and drowned. The gods felt pity for this young woman who died of a broken heart, so when her body finally washed up on shore they breathed their magic on it and turned it into an apple tree, to honour the love they had shared. Her lace dress became the tree's delicate flowers, her lips its red fruit, and her alabaster skin its white flesh. And from that point on, apples became plentiful in Asgard."

* * *

It occurred to Darcy, in a moment of rare clarity, just how little she still understood Asgard's princes.

Thor who, even after months on Earth, still couldn't figure out how to program a coffee machine, had spent countless hours intelligently discussing (and often debating) political systems with Darcy.

And now Loki, who in his madness had called on an alien army in a bid to rule Earth, had just tenderly recounted her a fairy tale as if he was sitting in front of a group of kindergarteners.

_This is way beyond having layers_, she realised, resisting the urge to drag her palm across her face in frustration. She opened her mouth to share a thought when Thor spoke up from behind her.

"That was always your favourite tale of Mother's," the other man commented, his face warm and open.

A shadow passed across Loki's features so quickly that Darcy thought she'd imagined it-but she knew better. She knew he still hadn't reconciled the loss of his mother, still blamed himself for not being there to protect her, blamed Thor for not being fast enough, blamed Odin for… well, he pretty much blamed Odin for everything.

Instead of lashing out at Thor for mentioning Frigga-as he always did-Loki's face broke out into a wistful smile. "It was, wasn't it?" He chuckled, caught in a memory. "Do you remember Sif's version of the story?"

Thor laughed out loud. "Of course! She claimed that Yrsa had planted the tree so she would have something to throw at Einarr because he was such a pest, like all boys."

Darcy shared a covert glance with Jane, who looked just as surprised-and pleased-at the rare moment shared between the brothers. As loathe as she was to cut the moment short, though, they needed to get going or else they were going to be late for their reservation.

"Well, why don't we walk over to the restaurant while we walk down memory lane?" She said, reaching for her coat. Loki took it from her and helped her into it, pulling her against him playfully and placing a kiss on her cheek. Slightly off-balance, she leaned against him while she wrapped her scarf around her neck and slipped her gloves on. It was a chilly night and would likely be a brisk walk to the restaurant, even if it was only a block away.

When they were in the elevator, Darcy voiced a thought that had just occurred to her. She looked up at Loki. "I know it's been a few years, but how can we be sure that no one will recognise you?"

"Believe me," Thor affirmed, "Loki is adept at remaining unnoticeable when he so wishes."

Jane made a face, still doubtful. "But how are you going to do that when you're with us? I mean, how easy is it going to be to remain unseen when we have a reservation for four at a restaurant?"

"Unnoticeable-not unseen," Loki corrected, stepping out of the elevator and holding the crook of his arm out for Darcy. "I believe the term you would best understand is a glamour. I will simply fade into the background of wherever we are."

"Yeah, but what do we call you? Cause 'Blandman' can't be called Loki or else that plan's all shot to hell." Darcy inhaled sharply when they walked outside, the cold air feeling like a slap in the face. For once she actually needed a hat and wasn't wearing one. _Go figure_, she mused sourly.

"Don't worry-the spell extends to all aspects of our interactions. You call me Loki, but the people at the table next to us will hear a more conventional Midgardian name, like 'Dave' or 'Joe'."

"Or maybe they'll hear… Sarah?" Darcy stopped dead in her tracks, her train of thought sidetracked by one of the panhandlers huddled against the Starbucks they were passing.

"No," Loki answered slowly, stopping beside her. "I don't think they'll hear anyone call me Sarah."

Darcy ignored him, focusing instead on the girl nestled as close to the building as possible. "Sarah, what are you doing in this neighbourhood?"

The girl looked up at her and frowned. "Hey Darce. That bitch Jet kicked me off my turf. Cunt told me to go somewhere else or she was going to kick my teeth in."

"Aw, man, you're kidding." Darcy looked from Sarah to her friends, who were all standing and waiting for her. "Hold on a sec." She turned to Jane, who was staring at her with unending patience; by now, the astrophysicist knew better than to be surprised by her intern being on a first-name basis with homeless people. "Look, you guys go ahead to Gabriele's-it's just around the corner anyway. I'm going to buy Sarah something to eat and then meet up with you."

Jane looked like she was about to protest, but a gust of icy wind nearly knocked her off her feet. "Ok," she conceded. "What should we order for you?"

"Order me a Cosmo. And thanks," she added, leaving an unspoken '_for understanding'_ .

The other woman nodded, and she and Thor continued along towards the restaurant. Loki stayed behind, looking oddly at Darcy. She knew empathy didn't really run high along his list of character traits and that he'd have trouble understanding her decision to help Sarah.

She turned back to the girl, who was staring at Loki as uncertainly as he was now staring at her. "I'm going to go in and grab you some food. You still on that ham and swiss kick?"

Sarah turned her attention back to Darcy. "Yeah. But you don't have to do this, you know. I mean, you're out with your friends and all."

"Sarah," Darcy explained slowly. "It's minus a-fucking-million out here and here you are, outside with nothing but a light jacket on. And you probably haven't eaten today. I won't be able to eat anything unless I know you have something in your stomach."

The girl smiled genuinely. "Ham and cheese, toasted, large peppermint hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and a chocolate drizzle."

* * *

Loki watched Darcy run in to the Starbucks, completely at a loss to understand her actions. Nevermind how she knew this vagrant, but to derail her carefully-planned evening to buy her a meal was… nonsensical. Was it Darcy's fault this 'Sarah' had no food? No. It was no one but the girl's fault. She could no doubt find work in a large city like New York; instead, she chose to spend her days sitting in front of a coffee house begging for handouts.

He looked down at the girl and found her watching him. "What?" he asked, unable to hide the irritation from his voice.

"Doesn't the cold bother you?" She asked back, nonplussed by his attitude.

"No."

"Are you from one of those countries where it's cold all the time?"

Despite himself, Loki found himself smirking at the question. "Something like that, yes." He envisioned himself showing her his true form, and his smile widened. When he looked back down at her-_really_ looked at her-his good humour waned.

She was of small stature, pale, thin-unhealthy looking. No doubt Darcy had been right to guess she hadn't eaten yet that day. He wouldn't have been surprised to find out she hadn't eaten the day before, either. Her coat was highly unsuited to the cold, and her uncovered hands were red and chapped. Despite the abundance of makeup she wore, she looked young and vulnerable. Where was her family? Why were they not caring for her if she couldn't care for herself?

When Loki realised his impression of her had shifted from a useless vagrant to an unfortunate victim, he wondered where these thoughts had come from. Was this what empathy felt like? The more she shivered the more uncomfortable he felt standing beside her, dressed impeccably.

Inside the coffee house he spotted Darcy paying for her order. At least Sarah would have something warm in her stomach, but it wouldn't do much for protecting her from the elements. Inwardly cursing his softness-when the _hell_ had he developed a conscience?!-he crouched down beside her.

At some point between the moment where it left his neck and where it was loosely draped over her shoulders, the posh cashmere scarf became a heavier wool scarf with pockets at its ends where Sarah could hide her hands. She looked at him, startled, and tried to decline the neckwear.

"The cold does not bother me, but it bothers you," he said not unkindly, still down at her level. "Keep it and keep warm."

When he straightened up Darcy was standing beside them, a look of complete and utter shock on her face. Had he not been terribly uncomfortable at being caught performing such a charitable act, he would have laughed at how her mouth hung open, gaping like a fish out of water.

"Come on," he pressed, self-conscious. "Or Jane and Thor will think we've forgotten them."

"Yes!" Darcy said, snapping from her trance. Smiling, she handed Sarah her drink and food. "I also got you a blueberry scone-you can have it for dessert or keep it for breakfast."

"Rockin," the girl said, accepting her meal. She looked up at Darcy, her face now serious. "Thanks, Darcy. This is amazing."

Darcy gave her a hug. "You take care, and try to stay warm tonight." The girl nodded and turned her attention to her food. By the time she waved goodbye, Sarah was already nearly halfway through her sandwich.

"You gave her your scarf and you made it even warmer," she told Loki as they made their way along the crowded sidewalk. They walked a bit farther, hand in hand, before she added, almost too quietly, "your mom would be so proud."

* * *

Darcy felt a tug at her hand and realised that Loki had stopped walking. Curious, she turned and found him staring at her as he so often did, his head cocked as if she was a puzzle he was trying to solve. "What?" She asked.

"You are a curious creature indeed, Darcy Lewis," he began, pulling her closer to him. Although the sidewalk was teeming with pedestrians, people walked around them as if they were nothing more than a lamp post or a poorly placed restaurant sandwich board-Loki's spell was more effective than Darcy could have imagined. "You're slowly uprooting all the lies that planted themselves in my mind while I tumbled into madness. You're like the sunrise after a long, dark, night."

And he kissed her. Right there on the sidewalk, with hundreds of people unconsciously avoiding them as they walked by, Loki kissed Darcy passionately, desperately, clutching her to him as if she was the only reason for his continued existence.

The sound of King Julien's voice singing "I Like To Move It" interrupted their embrace. Darcy pulled the iPhone from her pocket and answered it, still breathless from the kiss. "Jane, we're just on our way."

"_Mmm-hmm,_" the other woman replied, sounding amused. "Actually, you're already here. Turn around."

Darcy turned to her right and saw Jane and Thor standing inside an entrance next to where she and Loki stood. She looked up and saw Gabriele's familiar red, green and white canopy. Waving at them, she turned her phone off and slipped it back into her coat pocket.

"It's a good thing it's so cold out here," she told Loki before they entered the restaurant, "because that kiss left me majorly overheated."

Her companion reached for the handle and, just before pulling the door open, said "And I'm relieved to be wearing a long coat, as the kiss had a much similar effect on me too."

"Well," Darcy purred, "now you're just teasing me." She laughed at the heated look he threw her way and walked in ahead of him, joining the other couple.

"What's up?" she asked Jane. "Why aren't you guys seated and why aren't there drinks yet?"

"Looks like the party who was at our designated table left a mess behind. They're trying to clean it up as fast as they can. And," she added, putting her hand up to preempt Darcy, "before you say anything, they've apologised an embarrassing number of times and have offered us free dessert for the hassle."

Darcy closed her mouth with an audible clack and smiled. Damn it, but Jane knew her all too well. Not thirty seconds later, the host arrived, relieved to advise them that their table was finally ready.

When the four were seated and had ordered a first round of drinks, Thor addressed Darcy. "Please tell us about your friend," he asked. And although she was head over heels with Loki, Darcy still couldn't help but notice how good the blonde prince looked in his suit. Thor, Loki, Stark, Rogers… At what point had the powers that be smiled upon her, surrounding her with such hot men?

"Who, Sarah? The girl at Starbucks?"

Thor nodded, leaning back to allow their server to place their drinks on the table.

"I've known Sarah for… wow, almost a year, now. Her usual haunting ground is out by the Shawarma place where Tony always sends me for take out. I struck up a conversation with her one day when I didn't feel like rushing back to work," she looked at Jane apologetically and said 'sorry' before continuing. "Ever since then I always buy her something to eat whenever I see her. She's kinda like my World Vision kid, except here in New York instead of Burma."

"But why is she a transient?" He asked, truly curious. "Has she chosen this lifestyle?"

Darcy took a sip of her Cosmo. "Hell no. The story she's given me is that her dad tried to pimp her out when she turned fourteen-you know what that means, right?" She got an annoyed nod from Loki-_of course I do, I'm not stupid_-but a blank look from Thor. "Prostitution. He wanted to rent her out to his buddies for some extra cash, so she ran away. Her mom had run out on them years before, and she doesn't have any family nearby so she's been on the street ever since." She stared at her drink, playing with the slice of lime wedged on the lip of the glass. "No home, no food, no security-she couldn't go back to school, so she lives out on the street. She's been doing that for the last three years."

"If anything will help her out of her current situation, it will be the kindness of people like you, Darcy."

"Yeah, but kindness only goes so far. I wish there was somewhere she could go for some stability, to get back on her own two feet."

Jane piped in. "Have you tried talking to Pepper about it? She's involved in more charities than you can imagine. Maybe she can offer some advice, or even help."

"You know, I hadn't thought of that. Maybe I'll pick her brain on Tuesday morning before our weekly meeting." Jane was right, Darcy mused. If anyone could help Sarah, Pepper would be able to. Maybe she'd be able to find her a safe place to stay so she could go to high school and be a normal kid.

After a short silence that indicated the end of that conversation, everyone at the table picked up their menus and began to peruse the selection.

Everyone except for Darcy.

Jane looked up, frowning. "Aren't you going to open your menu?"

"Nope. I already know what I want."

"And what would that be?" Loki asked, looking up from his perusal of the menu.

"Tortellini Bolognese. You know how when you order something and it's phenomenal, but the next time you order it, it's just… meh?" She received a knowing nod from Jane and blank looks from the two Asgardians. "Well, this gets _better_ every time I have it."

"Then I shall have some, too," Thor said, closing his menu. "Along with the roasted rack of lamb."

Darcy laughed out loud at this, while Jane and Loki both shook their heads in resignation. Thor, for his part, looked at his tablemates in confusion, wondering out loud about the source of the sudden outburst.

"It's all good, dude," Darcy finally said, feeling bad for him. "You eat whatever you want and never mind what anyone else says." Turning to Loki, she elbowed him gently in the side and asked "What about you? Have you decided yet?"

"Well," he drawled, leaning back in his chair, "I was considering the stewed tripe…"

Darcy sat up straight in her seat. "Whoa. _Tripe?!_" She exclaimed, disgusted. "You know what that is, right? It's, like, intestines…"

"Actually, it's the lining of a cow or sheep's stomach, and it's very tasty," the god replied, one corner of his lips turning upwards into a poorly hidden smirk.

"Ha ha ha," she countered, eyes narrowed, "you're a real comedian. If you order that, we're both heading for our own apartments tonight because I am _so_ not kissing someone who had tripe for dinner."

Loki seemed surprised at the openness of her comments, while their friends laughed out loud. "She drives a mean bargain, brother," Thor said, still chuckling. "You'd best concede or your bed will be cold tonight."

Mustering as much dignity as he could, Loki closed his menu. "Chicken Marsala it is, then. Unless you're revolted by mushrooms?"

"Nope," Darcy said, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek.

Their server came by and took their orders, returning soon after with two baskets of warm bread.

The four friends fell quiet as they each enjoyed a bite of the bread. Darcy's mind returned to Sarah, huddled alone in the cold, and she felt guilty. Here she was, enjoying good food in the comfort of a warm restaurant, surrounded by people who cared for her, while the younger girl didn't have anything near to that. She felt Loki's hand on her thigh and looked up at him.

"You're a million miles away," he told her, concerned.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking about Sarah again," she admitted. Passing her hand over her face, she dramatically changed from a frown to a smile. "See? Happy Darcy." And she had all the same reasons to be happy. She was with good friends having a relaxing night out, and the prospects of Loki actually seeing her new lingerie were improving.

"So." She said through a mouthful of buttered bread. "Anyone have any cool news to share? I've got bupkis."

"Oh!" Jane exclaimed, setting her wine glass down suddenly enough for some of its contents to slosh over the edge. Wiping the Pinot Grigio from her hand, she asked "Loki-have you considered Tony's offer yet?"

* * *

He didn't want to talk about this. Not here, not now, not _ever_.

Loki felt a surge of white-hot anger flow through him. He looked on the table, saw that his fingers had curled into a fist and slipped it under the table onto his thigh. He didn't want the others to witness the tempest that raged within him, to see how bothered he was by Stark's offer.

As usual, however, Darcy proved to be more observant than he could have given her credit. Just as she asked Jane for more information on this offer, she reached under the table and took his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Jane looked momentarily surprised by Darcy's ignorance of the news but quickly recovered. "Tony offered to add Loki to the payroll," she explained.

She turned towards Loki, her gaze friendly and honest and excited-When was the last time someone had looked at him like that? Had there _ever_ been a time?!-and continued. "I mean, he's been helping me out at the lab every day with my calculations so he might as well get paid for it."

Loki watched closely as Darcy digested this information. He'd expected her to be happy for him, to be excited at the prospect of him earning a wage, but when her first reaction was to lock gazes with Thor, her eyes sharp and calculating, a silent conversation passing between them, he realised she understood him far better than he thought.

"That's a hell of an offer for Tony to make to the guy who was his enemy just over a year ago," she noted shrewdly.

If Jane noticed her tone, she didn't let it show. "I think he really sees how valuable Loki is to our research, how much he's been contributing. And," she turned her gaze to the man in question, "how much he's become part of the team."

"Come on, Jane," Darcy countered. "Tony's always ten steps ahead of anyone. Why would he need to pay Loki for a service he's already giving for free? Also, it's not like he's actually asked Loki to pay room and board."

"Maybe he wants him to feel like he's earning what he's getting?" Jane offered weakly.

"Or maybe he wants to be able to keep closer tabs on him. Hell, for all we know Fury could be behind this."

He'd had enough. He wanted to discuss this even less than before, which meant less than not at all. "Maybe you should stop talking about me as if I'm not sitting here with you."

Thor surprised him by speaking up in his defense. His brother had always felt it was his right to weigh in on Loki's life, alongside Odin; for as long he could remember they'd tried to mould him to their notion of what an Asgardian prince should be. Perhaps this was proof his older sibling had, indeed, become a better leader. "Loki is right. This is a very personal matter for him, and it is up to him to consider Tony's offer."

Years ago-hell, _months_ ago-it would have been impossible for him to do so, but Loki looked his brother in the eye, cocked his head in acknowledgement, and said "Thank you."

This earned him a wide grin which made him, despite himself, smile back.

This new stage in their relationship, one of reconciliation, put him ill at ease, very much like wearing in a new pair of boots. Unable to hold his brother's gaze for very long, he looked down at the glass of red wine he held in his hand. His thoughts turned to blood and, in turn, to family.

The discovery of his true lineage had been a catalyst, setting off his already volatile state of mind. At that very moment, every perceived slight was magnified, every time Odin had favoured Thor had been a sign of disgust towards the monster hiding in their midst-it had all become crystal clear why he'd been kept in his brother's shadow all those years.

And when he'd let himself drop into space-he no longer deluded himself into believing Thor had thrown him-falling, falling, falling into the abyss, with no one but his dark thoughts for company, his spirit became poisoned with twisted versions of reality and madness set in.

When Thanos found him, he fostered Loki's madness, feeding it, encouraging it, moulding it to suit his needs. And Loki, so eager to hate, was a willing pawn.

He had read a Midgardian quote that claimed hindsight was 20/20; this was a maxim which he understood all too well.

"Now you're the one who's a million miles away," Darcy whispered, bringing his attention back to his tablemates. Concern creased her brow. "Are you ok? _Really_ ok?"

He tried to smile, certain that the result was a wan version of the real thing. "The road to recovery is long and arduous," he admitted, "but it is a path that needs to be travelled." When he saw this worried her even more, his smile became more genuine-it felt good to be cared about. "I'm fine, Darcy. I just had a 'maudlin moment', as you call them."

The young woman seemed to be warring with herself as to whether or not she should press him further, but the arrival of their food distracted her.

* * *

Darcy sat back in her chair, staring at the four empty plates on the table.

Dramatically, she began staring at both of the men, eventually poking Loki in the side. She ignored his indignant huff and turned to face Jane.

"I don't get it," she said to her friend. "Where do they put it all? Do they have an extra stomach stored in another dimension?"

Jane smiled, clearly amused, and shook her head. "That's an entirely possible explanation, unless they sent it back to Asgard via the bifrost without our noticing."

When their server had placed her plate in front of her, Darcy had done what she always did-she pushed half the meal to the far side of her plate, saving it for leftovers. What she hadn't accounted for was Loki finishing his entire meal and then casually picking at hers until what she'd put aside had been eaten, too.

_So much for not having to buy my lunch Monday, _she mused sourly. She'd have to find a way to make Loki pay, like having him make her a sandwich. _That'd be one for Facebook_, she thought, amused. _The God of Mischief making a tuna and marble cheese on rye for a SHIELD intern_.

The server arrived to clear off the table and paused at the four plates which were nearly licked clean. "I take it you enjoyed your meals?" She asked with a hint of humour.

"Oh, you know," Darcy replied, hooking her thumbs at the two men. "Guys and their appetites."

"I have four teenaged sons," the woman replied with a smirk. "I know _exactly_ what you're talking about. Do you want me to bring a coffee and dessert menu?"

"Yes, please," Jane answered on behalf of the table. There was no question that everyone was interested in following a great meal with something sweet.

They were promptly brought their menus which they all opened immediately. The options ranged from traditional-apple and pecan pies, to gourmet-white chocolate pistachio mousse and crème brûlée.

"You don't have a favourite dessert?" Loki asked as he closed his menu. He leaned back in his chair, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and playing with a strand of her hair.

Darcy lost focus, leaning into his touch. She was tempted to reply "you", and she would have if it had been just the two of them. Instead, she shook her head. "Nope. I like to try something different every time I come here."

"I shall try the cream layer cake," Thor announced, closing his menu with a snap. "And an espresso."

"No."

"No?" Thor asked, staring oddly at Jane.

"No, you will not have an espresso." She replied, placing a hand on his forearm. "Thor, the last time you had an espresso you rearranged all the furniture in the apartment and you repainted the entire kitchen and dining room. At 2AM."

The god looked confused. "And this is not normal?"

Darcy laughed out loud. "Dude, if I have an espresso I'm wired for an hour, _maybe_. And only if it's a double." She felt bad, though, when his face fell. "Maybe what you need to do is to work your way up to an espresso-drink some strong coffee, and then some stronger coffee. Sort of like going from beer to whisky."

The god's smile reappeared, as wide as ever. "That is a sound plan, Darcy. I shall endeavour to build a tolerance to caffeine."

She felt more than saw Loki roll his eyes and kicked him under the table before he could ruin his brother's mood. "Eckchay the attitudeway," she muttered under her breath knowing full well he'd understand pig latin. For someone who grew up about as far from Earth as possible, Loki sure seemed familiar with its pop culture.

The server came by to take their dessert order much to Darcy's relief-for once, a server had good timing. They really didn't need any sibling bickering ruining the lovely evening.

After having placed his order-layer cake and a _regular_ coffee-Thor leaned forward, staring expectantly at both women. "Darcy, Jane-what is the story of Saint Valentine's Day? I am curious to know more about this special day."

"Uh…"

"Um…"

"Of course. I mean, sure," the astrophysicist finally began, "it's, um, in honour of Saint Valentine who was a monk, or a priest… I think…" She frowned, obviously at a loss, before downing the rest of her wine in one gulp and tossing Darcy a pleading look.

"Well, I'm glad we cleared that up," Loki interjected sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"_Fine,_" Darcy grumbled, pulling her iPhone from her purse. "Let me ask Google." As she waited for her browser to load up, she looked up at her tablemates. "Anyone got any good gossip to share? I need something to distract me from how long this is taking." She fought the urge to bang it on the table; that was all and well for Jane's scientific thingies but this was her _iPhone_.

There was a pause before Loki announced "Rogers and the Black Widow have entered a romantic relationship."

"What?!" The three others sat up straight, their eyes wide as saucers.

"Oh, _please,_" he retorted, his lips peeled back in distaste. "As if it hasn't been obvious for weeks, now. The fleeting glances, the blushing-it's all been rather nauseating."

"C'mon, Loki," Darcy said. "Making puppy eyes at each other does _not_ mean they're knocking boots."

"Oh? And what _does_ it mean if I caught the noble Captain with his hand up Romanoff's shirt, kissing her senseless? Despite common belief, the Captain seems to know his way around a woman just as well as any other man, if the Widow's inability to think straight afterwards is any sign." He leaned forward, basking in the attention his revelation was garnering. "When I walked in on them in the lunch room she hurried off, walking into a broom closet instead of out into the hallway."

"That sure sounds like a romantic relationship, alright," Jane agreed, her eyebrows still hiding up behind her bangs.

"Go Steve!" Darcy cheered, unable to hold back a goofy grin. "About time he sees some action." She paused, biting her lip. "I mean, the kind that doesn't involve crazy-ass aliens and explosions."

"Perhaps he will scale back his righteousness now that he's finding some release," Loki commented.

Thor laughed. "Like that's changed your attitude much, brother. You still believe yourself above everyone-not a day goes by without your reminding us that we are but ants to your boot."

Boyfriend or not, Darcy found herself nodding in agreement. "He's got you on that one," she concurred, still staring at her iPhone, willing it to load faster.

"I'll never live that one down, will I?" He grumbled. "Despite my fall from grace, I've agreed to work with you, willingly sharing my vast knowledge with Jane's team; I live under the same roof as you, eating, sleeping, watching mind-numbing television like everyone else; I even bought a box of cookies from Susan on the 52nd floor..."

"Hold on!" Darcy interjected, putting her hand out in front of her. "_You_ bought a box of Girl Guide cookies and didn't share?!"

At least he had the decency to look abashed. "I ate them all in one sitting. They were peanut butter flavoured, and I was feeling snacky."

The young woman looked at Jane, mouth agape. "He felt snacky so he ate a whole box of peanut butter cookies," she repeated, disbelief raising her voice an octave. "Why can't I eat a box of cookies when _I_ feel snacky and not gain ten pounds?! That is _so_ unfair."

"If I share my crème brûlée with you, will it in any way go towards making amends?" Loki asked smoothly.

Darcy stared at him, eyes narrow, searching for any sign of deceit, but he seemed honest in his offer. Of course, he _was_ the god of mischief, with centuries of practice, so he could be shitting her and she'd never be the wiser.

"It'd be a good start," she conceded, leaning into him when he draped his arm over the back of her chair. She checked her iPhone again-what the hell was it with this restaurant, anyway?!-and was relieved to see that the page loaded.

"_Finally_! Let's see what Wiki has to say about Valentine's Day." She scrolled through the text, scowling. "This doesn't clear anything up…"

"Well, what _does_ it say?!" Jane asked expectantly. She, as well as the two men, were leaning forward, staring intently at Darcy.

"It says there were many saints called Valentine, but they can't really trace the day back to any particular one… It talks about how some countries celebrate it in June…blah blah blah… And in Slovenia, Saint Valentine is a patron saint of beekeepers… more blah blah blah"

The other woman pursed her lips. "Huh. Well, that's, um…"

"Lame?" Darcy suggested, disappointed in the information she'd waited so long to discover. She turned her phone off and tossed it back in her purse, silently wishing that the quality of the internet was correlated to load time.

Luckily, the wait for dessert was not nearly as tedious and in no time Darcy was savouring her white chocolate mousse. "Oh. My. God." She announced through a mouthful of the confection. "This is, like, _orgasmic_." She closed her eyes and licked her spoon clean, twirling her tongue around the utensil, enjoying every decadent bit of her dessert. When she opened her eyes she noticed Loki watching her hungrily, his gaze dark and needy.

_Uh-oh..._

* * *

_Fuck it_, Loki thought, as he reached behind him for his wallet. He threw a handful of bills on the table and, without warning, teleported both Darcy and himself, as well as her dessert and that damned spoon, back to his bedroom.

"The hell?!" Darcy protested as she stumbled and fell back on the bed, spoon still clutched in her hand. She flinched as Loki slammed the sundae cup of mousse on the nightstand in frustration.

"You render me incapable of functioning normally-do you know that?!" He grumbled, pacing agitatedly along the length of the bed, struggling to remove his tie. He could have just as easily "magicked" his clothing off, as Darcy called it, but he really needed the distraction to sort through his thoughts.

Thor had always been the impetuous one, the brother who was driven by sentimentality, and it had always repulsed Loki. They were Asgardian princes, for gods' sake-it was beneath them to let their basic instincts rule their actions.

Yet here he was, letting his emotions make all the decisions, and it was… _freeing_. And it bothered him that, well, that it didn't bother him as much as it should have.

"Loki? Dude, you're starting to freak me out-say something."

Loki threw himself on his knees in front of where Darcy sat, looking up at her. It was time to be honest with himself _and _with her. He placed his hands on each side of her face and kissed her, slowly and passionately, before pulling back and resting his forehead against hers. "You are more precious to me than anything else in existence," he confessed, "and the intensity of my attraction to you frightens me."

The young woman stared at him, shocked into silence, before shaking herself from the impact of his admission. She turned on the light on his nightstand lamp before leaning forward, pressing her full lips to his, sliding his jacket off his shoulders. He shook free of it, letting it fall to the floor while she worked the buttons on his shirt.

Despite having been together for two months, he and Darcy were yet to take things slow in the bedroom (or the living room, or the kitchen or-his favourite-the shower…). Their couplings were always either frenzied or adventurous, neither initiating that level of intimacy. Perhaps Valentine's Day was as good an excuse as any for a change. _Sentimental fool_, he half-heartedly chided himself.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, standing up and shrugging his shirt off, letting it drop on top of his jacket and kicking both away from underfoot. When she reached for his belt he stayed her hand, gently pulling her up to standing before him. "Turn around," he instructed, his words barely a whisper. The young woman did as he bade. He brushed her hair to the side, placing a kiss at the nape of her neck, and unzipped her dress, slowly revealing a silky green bodice adorned with black lace, followed by matching panties, a garter and thigh-high stockings.

Darcy stepped out of the dress and pushed it to where Loki's shirt and jacket lay in a heap. She turned back to face him, lips spread in a flirtatious smile. "You like?"

As if she had to ask.

"By the Nine Realms, Darcy, you will be the death of me," he replied hoarsely, his throat dry.

Loki took a step forward, reaching out to place his hands on her hips, before finally giving in to temptation. "These have been calling out to me all evening," he told her playfully, smirking at the eye roll she gave him. He pressed his mouth to the swell of her breasts, teasing her with his tongue, committing the taste and scent of her to memory.

His lover's soft moans goaded him, his name a whispered prayer on her lips, and he had to fight the urge to bend her over the edge of the bed and take her in a fit of animalistic passion. Instead, he traced a path of light, butterfly kisses across her collarbone, up the side of her neck, alighting on that one spot just below her earlobe that he knew was most sensitive.

Darcy's hands went back to his belt, deftly undoing the clasp and pulling it apart before moving to the button of his pants. When the garment had pooled at his ankles, he added it to the growing pile of clothing. _At least this time, _he mused wryly_, we won't have to search every room for our clothes_.

When the young woman reached to cup him through his underwear, he closed his eyes in pleasure, but pulled back.

"What's wrong?" she asked, confused.

"Nothing," he reassured her, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. "I thought it was customary for a little romance on Valentine's Day-or am I mistaken?"

"Romance?" She repeated, visibly taken aback. "Well, yeah, but we don't usually… I mean… We haven't really ever…"

Loki couldn't help but smile at her loss for words. "Darcy, you told me earlier tonight you can't be with me without being emotionally involved. This is a sentiment I share, although I fear I haven't been very good at showing it. And I want to show you tonight, _very_ thoroughly, precisely how much you mean to me."

"I think," she replied, dragging her index finger down the centre of his chest, "I would really like that."

"Then be a good girl and lie down so I can have a closer inspection of these naughty undergarments."

Darcy nodded, turning down the blankets and slipping into the silk sheets. Stretching her arms above her head like a cat, she bowed her back and pushed her chest out, giving him a seductive look that nearly made him lose his resolve to take things slowly.

"Temptress," he chided, refusing to give in to his base desires just yet. Instead, he crawled onto the bed, holding himself above her. He gently bit her earlobe, tracing a path with his lips down the column of her neck, across her collarbone and down to her breasts, still hidden by the green fabric.

Pulling back to sit on his haunch, Loki examined the bodice, tracing the lace patterns with his long fingers. "However did you put this on?" he asked, truly curious. Women on Asgard had chambermaids to help them with their underthings, but Darcy didn't have any such servants.

"I had Nat help me," she answered haltingly, distracted by the patterns he was drawing on her soft flesh. "We… we went lingerie shopping together. We sorta helped each other lace them on."

An image of Darcy and the Black Widow, both in provocative undergarments and an even more provocative position, invaded Loki's mind and he fought back a groan. _Table that one for later_, he told himself, fighting to regain control.

"Sit up," he instructed, his voice rough. He reached back and tugged at ribbon which was laced up, loosening the bodice just enough for him to undo the buttons at the front. One by one, the buttons revealed more porcelain skin until the sides fell apart, leaving her bare to his gaze.

* * *

It figured Loki was the kind of guy who could just blindly reach behind her and undo a corset. _These things shouldn't surprise me anymore_, she mused. Especially not after that one time he turned her bedroom into zero-G. Now _that_ had been interesting...

Darcy shrugged the article off, letting it dangle from the tips of her fingers before dropping it off the edge of the bed. It certainly wasn't the first time Loki saw her breasts but the look in his eyes made her feel more self-conscious than ever and she had to fight the urge to cover herself. This wasn't the same lust or hunger she was used to seeing; this was a new look, one that held warmth and affection, emotions she'd only ever seen Loki wear fleetingly.

It was scary and exciting and sweet all at once, and the tumult of emotions made her feel light-headed. She leaned back onto the soft mattress-way better than fainting and falling off the side of the bed-Loki following her like a shadow.

She wove her fingers through his hair as he paid particular attention to her breasts, worshipping them with his mouth, putting his silver tongue to good use. The hand which wasn't holding him up trailed a light path down her side, causing her to giggle and squirm, accidentally kneeing him in the thigh. "Sorry," she apologized when he shot her a look. He moved south, alternating between kisses, licks and nips, until he arrived at her garter.

He took a moment to inspect it, humming in appreciation, before releasing the grips from the stockings. "Tip top," he whispered, nudging her on the bottom. She lifted up, and he slipped her panties and the garter belt off at the same time before tossing them to the side.

Darcy slid one leg up the length of his arm, letting the sole of her foot rest playfully on his shoulder. "Aren't you going to take the stockings off?" She asked, distracted by the hand which was delicately stroking her thigh.

Loki's gaze flit from her face to the leg in question. "No," he admitted, "I find them rather arousing, to be honest." He placed her leg back down, knee bent and foot flat on the bed and slid towards the foot of the bed, crouching low.

Her nerves on edge in anticipation, Darcy closed her eyes and let herself sink back against the pillows. She sighed blissfully at the feel of his breath between her legs, the sweep of his tongue delicately tracing her folds. What made it amazing-what made _Loki_ amazing-was that each time he went down on her, it was vastly different. He could be wild and unreserved, or torturously slow; one time he'd even alternated his breath between cold and hot, driving her mad with need.

This night he seemed to have opted for slow and sensual, and every pass of his mouth over her had her clutching the sheets tighter. She felt it, then, the tightening in her belly, the trembling of her muscles, the anticipation, and then... nothing.

"Stopped?" She muttered, thinking out loud. "Why did it stop?" She opened her eyes and lifted her head only to see Loki kneeling between legs, her bowl of mousse and spoon in hand.

"I'm curious to find out whether this confection is as delicious as you say," he announced in a complete non-sequitur.

Darcy's mind floundered as it attempted to reconcile the change of pace. Automatically, she accepted the spoonful of mousse he offered her, humming in delight.

"Mmm…" she purred. "How come it's still so cold?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Because I chilled the dish, silly. I wasn't going to let it go to waste, was I? Not after the show you put on at the restaurant." He took a spoonful for himself, closing his eyes in rapture. "Not quite orgasmic yet, though," he countered, licking the spoon clean, pretending to be deep in thought. "Ah! Of course!" Dipping the spoon back in the dish, he scooped up a dollop of the mousse and trailed it over one of Darcy's nipples.

The young woman squealed, squirming in shock at the sudden change in temperature. The heat of his mouth quickly replaced the chill, his tongue lapping up the chocolatey dessert. He then held the spoon above her stomach, dabbing a trail along the flat plane of her tummy, his lips following not far behind. Darcy's hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair, and she found herself begging him for what she knew was next. "Oh god, _please_."

When Loki parted her folds, baring her to him, he groaned and his movements faltered. "You're so wet," he said, his voice rough and needy. This time, he used his finger to drop the mousse, circling her clit with its sugary sweetness.

They both moaned when he darted his tongue out to taste her, his actions no longer slow or sensual. Darcy writhed against him as he fucked her with his mouth and fingers, feeling her climax building and building until it finally washed over her, leaving her feeling boneless.

"Gah…" she muttered, unable to do any heavy thinking. She watched as Loki magicked the bowl and spoon off the bed to who-knew-where and climbed over her, his lips still wet with her juices, his eyes nearly black with lust, tugging his underwear off as awkwardly as any other horny guy.

When he reached for the drawer in his nightstand, she put a hand on his arm, stilling his movement. He gave her a quizzical look laced with frustration. "My turn with the surprises," she explained softly. "I started taking birth control just over a month ago; we don't need to use condoms anymore if you don't want to."

He gazed at her, an unfathomable look in his eyes, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something. Instead, he leaned down and kissed her madly, entering her in one push. Darcy returned the embrace with as much passion, wrapping her legs around his narrow waist and dragging her fingernails up his back. They broke the kiss, still moving together, still close enough that their noses nearly touched, their breaths coming out in short puffs through their parted lips.

Loki leaned over, gently pressing his lips to her neck, which changed the angle of his thrusts. In no time, Darcy could feel her second orgasm building. "Follow me," she whispered, smiling when he pulled back to look at her, nodding. Her smile widened when he returned it, and she marveled at how much younger it made him look. And when she came he did follow, his breaths hot on her cheek, his skin slick against hers.

* * *

He loved Darcy. It was no longer of any use lying to himself. He may not have been ready to say the words out loud, but it was good enough at that moment, in the afterglow of what they'd just shared, for him to simply admit it to himself.

Loki rolled over onto his back, wrapping one arm around Darcy as she curled up against his side. He took advantage of the moment of silence to reflect on the significance this evening would have on his and Darcy's relationship.

Although it had been weeks since he and Darcy had 'hooked up' as she called it, he'd upheld an emotional distance out of an aversion for sentimentality.

Or so that's what he'd been telling himself. _Again with the lies,_ he mused. _Why does it seem that the person to whom I lie most often is myself?_ He understood, now, that he'd simply been protecting himself from further heartbreak. What he hadn't realised, though, was the good that Darcy would bring him. She was more than a distraction-she was slowly making him a better man. He found himself enjoying the company of others, he'd learned to laugh again and he'd even begun mending his relationship with his brother.

"Loki?" Darcy asked, derailing his train of thought. "You wouldn't happen to have any tissues, would you? I'm kinda sticky if you get what I mean."

"Of course. Hold on," he replied, leaving the comfort of the warm bed and padding over to the living room to find his box of tissues. The refrigerator caught the corner of his eye, giving him an idea.

Darcy's face broke out into a wide grin when he re-entered the room, tissue box and mousse in hand. "Nice," she approved, accepting the tissues and keeping a keen eye on the dessert. When she was done cleaning up she shivered and pulled the blankets up to her neck. "You wouldn't happen to have a shirt I could borrow, would you?"

He nodded, rooting around his chest of drawers for something suitable, when one t-shirt in particular caught his attention. He pulled it out, looked it over, and tossed it to her. "I believe you'll appreciate this one," he commented.

The young woman laughed out loud. "Pinky and the Brain?! Where the hell did you get this? I've been looking _everywhere_ for one I could get you."

"Tony, of course," he replied, slipping back into bed and sitting up with his back resting against his pillow. "It seems his sense of humour is as highly developed as yours," he added wryly, smirking at her huff of indignation. Her displeasure disappeared as soon as he passed her the mousse, however.

She took a spoonful of the confection, handing the dish back to him. They made short order of it, passing it back and forth, scraping the dish nearly clean. "That was, by far, the best dessert I've ever had," she confirmed, licking the spoon clean.

"Indeed," Loki agreed. He was too exhausted-mostly mentally-for the sight to elicit the same response it had just earlier that evening. He reached out, wrapping an arm around Darcy's shoulders and holding her close to him. She sighed and melted against him, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Let's watch a movie," she suggested.

Loki reached over to his nightstand, grabbing the remote. "What do you feel like watching?" He asked, turning the TV on.

"Anything but Lord of the Rings," she replied, propping her pillow up behind her.

He paused his perusal of the movie listings to turn and stare at her. _Anything but…_ "What's wrong with Lord of the Rings?!" He asked, affronted.

"It's the only thing we ever watch," she countered, frowning. "They're good movies, but _come on_, even _I_ know them off by heart by now."

They continued to bicker good naturedly like an old couple as he scrolled through the list, and Loki made a mental note to thank his brother for the proverbial kick in the pants he'd given him earlier that evening. If it hadn't been for Thor's text, he'd still be alone, oblivious to the goodness of love and friendship.

It was indeed a good thing to be a sentimental fool, he decided.

* * *

A/N

Disclaimers: I do not own any Marvel characters, Starbucks, King Julien, Google or anything else that's raking in a ton of cash (otherwise I'd have a lot more time to write).

The concept of a glamour that allows someone to melt into the background was borrowed from Jim Butcher's Dresden books-if you like sci-fi, I strongly suggest you check them out.

The story of Yrsa and Einarr, however, is all mine.

And, as always, don't forget to take a moment to leave your thoughts in the box below!


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